Chance Meeting
by lizzie bobizzy
Summary: There's a very attractive boy who won't stop staring at Clary in the club...


Clary looks up, then looks back down again. The pounding music of the club reverberates all throughout her.

He's still watching her.

She laughs loudly, obnoxiously at something Isabelle says. She hasn't noticed him. She hasn't noticed him.

Keeping her eyes trained on Isabelle, she sneaks a peek with her peripheral vision. Is he still facing her way? She thinks so.

Finally, she can't stand it anymore and takes a quick glance at the boy watching her, and she's startled by a flash of gold, made even brighter in contrast with the dark of the club.

Her face grows incredibly warm. His eyes…. They're _golden_. How is that possible?

She can't keep eye contact for more than a few moments. He's just…. He's very attractive. He's leaning casually against the wall, legs crossed. A corner of his lips quirks up at her, when he catches her looking back. You can tell his type from one glance, Clary thinks disdainfully. Cocksure of himself, alpha type, and a little misogynistic. Not her type. But she's still a little unsettled.

Their interaction has gone by all in a couple of seconds, and Isabelle hasn't noticed.

"Come on, Clary, let's go dance!" she laughs, pulling Clary along with her.

On the dance floor, Clary tries to move to the beat, just enjoy the music, but she can _feel_ his gaze on her. She'll admit it, she's a little flustered. She tries to ignore it, but she just grows uncomfortably warm. Finally, after a couple of awkward movements, she gives up and pulls Isabelle aside.

"I'm going to the bathroom." She needs to escape.

"Are you okay?" Isabelle asks worriedly. "Want me to come with?"

"No, no, you stay. I just need some air." Clary thinks she sees someone eyeing Isabelle anyway. Well, a lot of people eye Isabelle. But she thinks this guy's her type.

As she rushes off to the bathroom, she takes one last look over her shoulder and stumbles. He's looking at her, but he's not smiling. In fact, he looks very serious right now, his eyes staring hard in her direction, like he's daring her to leave. He looks like he'd catch her no matter what.

With a _hmph!_ Clary turns away indignantly, flipping hair over her shoulder. She can't let him get under her skin. He's just some boy who's a little good-looking. He doesn't own the world.

She makes her way to the bathroom, groping blindly a little, gripping the sink once she stumbles in. She breathes out. The bathroom is surprisingly well insulated, and the pounding music is muted to a dull hum inside.

_Calm down_, she tells her fast-beating heart as she waits for her face to cool. It's still very hot in the bathroom.

She doesn't know how long she's been standing there, staring at her reflection in the mirror, when she hears a "Hey, this is the _girl's_ bathroom!"

She turns around just in time to see him burst through the door. Gold locks and gold eyes and all. Some girls make feeble protests, but most are just as in awe of his beauty as Clary is.

He walks right up to her, forcing her to crane her neck to keep looking at his face. His cheekbones and jawline could cut glass, she thinks distractedly.

His face is hard, his expression ruthless, and his eyes cutting, but when he sees how she can't stop staring he softens a bit.

"Hi," he murmurs, like they aren't two strangers meeting for the first time with no more than a hair's width between their bodies.

"Hi," she says back, like her eyes aren't constantly flicking down to his mouth. (Well, his are too. It's only fair.)

"I'm Jace."

"Clary."

"I was waiting for you to come over." Jace looks mournfully down at her.

"I needed to pee."

A grin breaks out over his face at that. It's entrancing, really, that boyish look on his face. "Easy there. I don't talk about bodily functions until the second date."

He looks so proud of himself. He's so fucking adorable. Clary can't take it anymore, and reaches for his lapels, pulling him down to kiss him roughly, then stops abruptly, not wanting to seem too aggressive or forward. What if she misread all the signs? Too shy to actually be the one to initiate the kiss, she stops halfway, her cheeks blushing furiously.

She's so awkward! she thinks. Why isn't she brave enough to go all the way? She waits for Jace to laugh at her mockingly. Instead, he looks at her with an unidentifiable expression and leans forward into her to meet her the rest of the way. Clary's eyes widen in surprise.

His lips are soft and gentle, but also firm and demanding. He starts slow, brushing his lips over hers gently, then harder, like he can't stand it anymore. They stumble a bit, and Jace backs Clary in the wall. They're both frantic now, his arms going through her hair, over the outline of her body. Clary hooks one leg around his waist and tangles one hand in his hair. (It's as soft as it looked.)

Jace's mouth is insistent, taking everything Clary has to give. Jace's breath becomes hot against hers, and his lips slant over hers in dizzying, unpredicted directions, leaving he rnearly gasping. Occasionally he shocks her a little by nipping her bottom lip, and she grips his hair even harder. He kisses her mouth a couple more times, his tongue hot and wet inside her mouth, with the slight acidic taste of vodka , then pulls away to scatter kisses all across her face. When he bites her nose, she giggles. He makes a path down to her neck taking the time to suck that spot where it meets her shoulder.

"Nngh!" At the scrape of his teeth against her pulse, she arches, pressing into him insistently.

She yanks his hair, pulling him up. She wants to kiss him again.

Their frenzy is interrupt by a knock on the door, and they pull away, breathing hard. "Security here. We've been informed about a disturbance. We're coming in. Please make yourselves respectable."

They grin at each other, and Jace ignores them, pulling her close to kiss her again.


End file.
